The Cost of Honor

by Stargate

  "General?" Dr. Fraiser stood at the top of the steps leading up to the gate. "Medevac complete, sir."

  "Good work, Doctor, we'll-"

  A booming crash reverberated through the entire complex, shaking the floor like an earthquake. Fraiser's eyes went wide. "Sir?"

  "Go," he ordered. "Get out of here."

  She hesitated, eyeing the entrance to the gate-room. "A counterattack, sir?"

  All around, his men had dropped into position, weapons raised. "We'll send word, Doctor," he said. "Get through the gate."

  "Yes, sir." With a final backward glance, she stepped into the puddle and disappeared. After a moment, it shut down and the room looked gray and dull again. But the troops never arrived, nor were there any further explosions - if that was what the huge tremor had been.

  "Sir?" Henry Boyd appeared in the doorway, part of the advance guard. "Something's going on outside. I can hear fighting."

  Fighting? It could mean anything. But it could be his people trying to get home. He couldn't ignore that. "SG-13, SG-2," and with a look at Boyd, "SG-10 - with me."

  As one, his men fell in behind as Hammond hefted his P90 and went to find his missing team.

  The fighting was intense, the enemy on all sides. Jack was pinned down behind their crashed ship, Daniel on one side, Teal'c on the other and Carter on their six. Across the courtyard, glaring bright in the sunlight, he could see more Kinahhi emerging from an archway. They fought as though the devil himself were at the door, fear stark in their young faces, mutating into hatred with each shot they fired.

  Jack wasn't sure what terrified them most, his team, the Arxanti or the Outcast - an object lesson in the power of fear, hatred and prejudice.

  "Sir!" Carter suddenly aimed up at the roof "Snipers." She took one man out with a single shot, as Jack scanned the rooftops and hit another. Their position had been compromised; they had to move.

  "Over there, O'Neill," Teal'c suggested, pointing at the mound of crushed stone knocked out of the building when they'd landed at - or, to be more accurate, crashed into - the Stargate complex. The bulk of the ship would shield them from the snipers, but there was scant cover to the right.

  Carter fired again. "Sir, there are more!"

  "Move out!" Jack snapped in reply, keeping low as he led Daniel and Teal'c along the side of the ship. Carter followed, still watching the roof. But more Kinahhi were spilling into the courtyard ahead of them, blocking the route to the gate room, the only exit from the claustrophobic plaza. He grunted, hunkering down behind the broken brickwork as the rest of his team crowded in behind. "We need a plan B."

  `B?" Daniel muttered, firing over the wall. "I thought we'd gotten to at least E by now!"

  "Could we not attempt to enter the building where the ship has damaged it?" Teal'c suggested. "There may be an alternate approach to the gate-room, perhaps one less well guarded."

  Maybe. "Beats staying here," Jack admitted. But inside, constricted in the narrow Kinahhi corridors, they'd be-

  "Jack?" It was Daniel, head cocked and frowning. "Did you hear that?"

  "Hear what?"

  The whizz-bang of the Kinahhi weapons continued, but suddenly, like a subtle counterpoint, he heard a different rhythm. A sustained and familiar rattle.

  "Sir!" Carter's eyes went wide as saucers. "That's a P90."

  Jack scrambled back to his feet, crouching low as he peered over the top of their scant cover. "Question is," he murmured, not daring to voice any hope, "who's firing it?"

  A clot of Kinahhi soldiers blocked the doorway that led from the dust-filled corridor out into glaring sunlight. Hammond held up his hand to slow his men; the Kinahhi were too focused on the battle beyond and they weren't watching their backs. So much the better.

  With a sharp gesture, he sent Dixon's team ahead. In the close confines of the hallway, SG-13 would have little trouble dispatching the handful of men up front. What they'd find outside, however, Hammond could only guess. And he chose to guess that it was SG-1.

  Dixon's team were brutally efficient, taking out the back line of the enemy and causing panic among the remainder. The Kinahhi seemed almost as afraid of retreating into the sunlight as they were of the advancing soldiers, but Hammond had no pity as he stalked along the corridor behind SG-13.

  Eventually, the small knot of Kinahhi broke rank and fled, disappearing into the white glare of the plaza. Hammond slowed, regarding the new territory through the sights of his P90 as he cautiously stepped outside.

  Chaos was everywhere. Some kind of aircraft had crashed into one of the buildings, and the air was thick with smoke. But through the haze, Hammond saw figures moving. Grotesque figures, bone-white and contorted.

  Dixon sucked a breath through his teeth. "What the hell... ?"

  "Hold your position," Hammond cautioned. "Secure our line of retreat." Whatever the devil this was, there was no sign of SG1.

  Then, suddenly, someone came barreling toward him, screaming like a lunatic. Henry Boyd fired a warning shot and the figure threw itself to the floor, jabbering. It was only then that Hammond recognized the words as English.

  "Don't shoot! It's me! It's me!"

  Crawford?

  "Hold your fire!" Keeping his weapon raised, Hammond stalked forward. The man, his suit in tatters and his face gaunt and red-streaked, cowered in a heap. "Dixon, Boyd, take your teams and form a perimeter."

  The men moved past him to surround Hammond, Crawford and the entrance to the corridor in a wide semi-circle. Beyond them the grotesque creatures capered, while the Kinahhi bunched together as if the doors to hell had opened and spewed forth its demons.

  Hammond kept his attention fixed on the wreck that had once been Ambassador Crawford; if anyone could give him some answers it was him. "What the hell's going on here?"

  Crawford wrapped his arms around his legs, rocking himself manically. "Take me home, take me home."

  "All in good time. Tell me what's going on. What are these creatures?"

  The Ambassador buried his face against his knees. "They're from the sheh fet," he said, in a shaking voice. "They're monsters. Created by the sheh fet!"

  Hammond went cold, his mind returning to what he'd seen up on Level 17. "Created? What do you mean?"

  Crawford didn't answer, his shoulders shaking. He was beyond terror; a broken man.

  A beat of pity pulsed through the General's chest, but he had more pressing concerns. "Where are Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter? Were they-" His mouth went dry. "Were they in the sheh fet...?"

  Crawford nodded, scratching out his answer in a hoarse voice. "I saw them, I saw them in my head..."

  Dear God, are they among these monsters? Hammond felt sick to his stomach. "What about Dr. Jackson and Teal'c? Do you-

  "Sir!" The excited cry came from Henry Boyd. "General, look!"

  Boyd stood in the tight line of men surrounding the entrance to the corridor, and he didn't lower his weapon as Hammond came to stand at his shoulder. "What is it, Major?"

  "There, sir. Look."

  It was the only answer necessary. Through the dust and smoke drifting across the courtyard, Hammond saw Jack O'Neill watch ing them from behind the scant cover of a ruined Kinahhi building. At his side were the rest of SG-1. They looked filthy and exhausted, but they were alive. And they were human. Thank God.'

  Suddenly, none of the rest of it mattered. Not Jack's deception, nor Kinsey's politicking, nor Hammond's own sense of betrayal. It was all washed away in a violent torrent of relief. He'd found his people, and they were alive. SG-1 were alive!

  Heart thumping, Hammond pushed past Boyd and out into the courtyard proper. As he did so, Jack visibly started and then, very deliberately, rose to his feet and dropped his weapon. Surrendering? Did expect to be arrested? Hammond felt like laughing! "Colonel O'Neill," he bellowed, grinning widely, "this is going to be one hell of a debrief!"

  Major Samantha Carter didn't believe in miracles. She even had a hard time believing in happy endings, but occasio
nally... Sitting perched atop a broken wall, she watched in astonishment as a miracle played out before her.

  Eytan stood at the center of the courtyard, looking around him as if at distant memories. Perhaps he'd known this place before he'd been sent to Tsapan? But as he stood there, his ragged clothing flapping in the slight breeze, Sam noticed one of the Kinahhi soldiers staring at him intently.

  A little flare of hope burned in Sam's chest as the Kinahhi woman got to her feet and took a step forward. Boyd was guarding the group and warned her back, but she didn't seem to hear.

  "It's okay," Sam called to him. "Let her go."

  With a frown, Boyd stood back and let the woman pass. "Major? What's going on?"

  Elisha! Oh my baby, my sweet little girl..."I don't know, exactly."

  As Sam watched, the woman - maybe twenty-one? - slowly walked toward Eytan. Her face was white, eyes full of doubt as she stopped a few steps away from him. "Papa?" she whispered, almost too quiet to hear.

  But Eytan heard. His head snapped around and he froze. After an eternal moment he spoke, his voice cracking with disbelief, "Elisha?"

  Her hand flew to her mouth, her whole body trembling. "Papa..."

  And then Eytan moved, stumbling forward to clutch the young woman in his arms. Elisha! Oh my baby, my sweet little girl...

  The memory was raw in Sam's mind, Eytan's desperate longing aching in her chest like the pain was her own. But the little girl was now a young woman and it nearly broke Sam's heart; Eytan must have spent decades trapped inside the sheh fet...

  Boyd cleared his throat. "Looks like Colonel O'Neill's ready to move out," he said gruffly.

  Boyd was ostensibly watching the Colonel, locked in deep conversation with Kenna, but Sam didn't miss the gleam of moisture in his eyes; Henry Boyd had a daughter of his own who'd grown up without a father. She slid down from the wall and squeezed his arm. "Thanks for coming after us, Major."

  He sniffed. "Yeah, no problem."

  But his gaze, like Sam's, lingered on Eytan and his daughter. There was so much pain and joy entwined, Sam didn't know if she wanted to laugh for joy or weep with pity as she watched them locked in a fierce and desperate embrace.

  "Yo! Carter!" The Colonel beckoned to her from the other side of the courtyard. "Come on!"

  Sam swallowed the knot of emotion and took a deep breath. "Gotta go," she told Boyd, with a weary grin. "One last fish to fry...,,

  Councilor Tamar Damaris fled down the hallway of the Security Council building, Matan Tal at her heels. All around the sound of gunfire filled the air, horrifying and loud and impossible. She couldn't believe it, not here in the heart of Kinahhi.

  Her sandaled feet slapped against the polished floor, her robes of state awkward and tangling in her legs as she ran. The rest of the Security Council were already aboard the emergency shuttle, she was the last. The last to leave.

  And I will be the first to return, she promised herself angrily. I will be the first to make them pay for this outrage!

  Ahead of them another corridor crossed her own, the left passage taking her to the safety of the shuttle. Matan Tal, unencumbered by robes and with longer legs, reached it first and disap peared around the corner. She cursed him for his cowardice in abandoning her, mind twisting with rage at a world of injustice as she hurried after him.

  And came face to face with her smiling enemy.

  "Going somewhere, Councilor?" It was O'Neill, hair spiking in all directions, clothes grimy. Matan Tal was trembling at the point of a weapon wielded by the large alien, Teal'c. And behind them... Her heart quailed at the sight of the filthy Mahr'bal, watching her with hatred in their eyes - and the Outcast, animals that no longer deserved the name human. All here, in Kinahhi!

  "What have you done?" she spat, her outrage stronger than her fear. "Why have you brought these... these... things, here?"

  O'Neill gave an arrogant shrug. "Cause it's their planet too?"

  "Their planet? They are killers, monsters and-"

  "That's not true, Councilor." Another of the Tauri spoke, Daniel Jackson. "The Arxanti -" He paused, correcting himself. "The people you know as the Mahr'bal aren't your enemy." He glanced warily over his shoulder toward a stick-thin female with savage hair. She stepped forward, as haughty as any of her kind. "They are the descendents of a highly advanced civilization that spanned this whole galaxy," Jackson continued. "We call them the Ancients and-"

  "They are terrorists! They have murdered countless Kinahhi and-"

  "And you have stolen our birthright!" the Mahr'bal woman shrieked. "Condemned our children to die, stolen our youth and-"

  O'Neill stepped forward, one hand on the creature's arm. "Okay, okay. This isn't getting us anywhere." He jerked his head. "Kenna, she's all yours."

  Shocked beyond speech, Damaris watched as her once trusted military Commander stepped out from the rabble blocking her way. A boy stood at his side, and behind him a dozen of her own people. But they looked at her with hard expressions, devoid of all proper deference. "What is this?" she hissed. "What are you doing?"

  Kenna lifted his chin, and his eyes, that had always revealed too much, showed nothing now but determination. "We're taking our city back, Councilor," he said. "No more sheh fet, no more `events' to frighten our people into submission. It's over, Damaris."

  She laughed, spat it out in anger and defiance. "You? This rabble, this handful of freaks? All that is over, Commander, is your life. All of you! You will be crushed, and when the sheh fet is restored-"

  "Oh, that's gone," O'Neill insisted gleefully. "Down at the bottom of the deep blue sea."

  "And we know the truth now," another voice added. She didn't know the man, a Kinahhi dressed in rags and clutching the hand of a young woman. A young woman dressed in Kinahhi uniform! He stared at Jackson, then back at her. "We have seen the truth about the Arxanti and our own people. And we will tell our story, we will shout it from the rooftops!"

  Regarding him disdainfully, she said, "And who might you be?"

  A bitter smile cut across his face like the slash of a knife. "I am Eytan Lahhat. You condemned me to the sheh fet yourself, Damaris, for raising my voice in protest."

  It was possible, she had sent many dissidents to Tsapan. But if he had been absorbed into the sheh fet... Her gaze darted to the demented creatures twitching and capering behind the crazed rabble.

  "Yes," the man continued, "I was Outcast, but Alvita Candra of the Arxanti has returned me to myself As she will all my brethren, when we travel with her people to Arxantia. Then, together, we will return to our homes - to our families - and wash this city of its lies." He bowed gravely toward Daniel Jackson, "For we have seen the truth in ways you could not imagine, Councilor Damaris."

  "The truth," she said coldly, "is that your pathetic revolt will be crushed by the might of the Kinahhi military and-"

  "Yadda-yadda," O'Neill interrupted. "Kenna? You wanna shut her up?"

  With a sharp gesture to two of his men, Kenna stepped forward and took her by the arm. She hissed at his impudence, but he persisted. "Councilor, I am placing you under arrest for engineering the deaths of Kinahhi civilians and-"

  "On what authority, Commander? Your own? You have no right to-"

  The man stiffened. "On the authority of the people of Kinahhi. The free people of Kinahhi." To his men, he said, "Take her to Plaza 210 and keep her under guard."

  "You can't do this!" she screeched, struggling against the iron fingers of the soldiers who dragged her down the corridor. "I demand that you release me!"

  But Kenna ignored her, talking earnestly to Matan Tal. Her aide was nodding ferociously, no doubt trading his loyalty for his life. The only person still watching was O'Neill. He lifted a hand to his brow in an insolent salute and turned his back on her, saying something to make his people laugh.

  Damaris screamed her outrage long and loud. But no one was listening.

  "You've got a tough job," Jack said as they stood in the smoking ruins of the Kinahhi gate-ro
om. Kenna's men were busy securing the base, fanning out deeper into the complex. And their ranks seemed to be swelling; it looked good for the future of the revolution. Or the coup. Or the civil war - whatever the hell it was they'd started here. Only the Stargate itself seemed undamaged in the battle-scarred room, its massive presence dominating everything.

  He was going to miss it.

  Kenna's face was severe, his hard voice breaking into Jack's thoughts. "Damaris was right," he said. "The military will not simply capitulate. But without the sheh Yet to control the people, and with the Mahr- With the Arxanti openly fighting at our side, I hope we will succeed."

  "I believe you will," said Teal'c. "In my experience, men fighting for their freedom fight longer and with more valor than those striving to oppress them."

  Kenna gave a little bow. "I hope you will return one day."

  "Yeah," Jack agreed, clasping the man's arm in farewell. "Me too." But it was unlikely. After the inevitable court martial, he doubted he'd be allowed within a ten-mile radius of the SGC ever again.

  The sudden whoosh of the opening Stargate cut through his brooding, and Jack turned to see Carter and Daniel saying their own farewells. Daniel was in deep conversation with Alvita Candra, trying, it seemed, to impart everything he knew about the Ancients in one never-ending sentence, while simultaneously edging toward the gate. Carter was hugging Eytan tightly, no doubt making the guy's day on more than one score.

  God, he'd miss them. The thought slammed into his gut, physically painful. He'd miss this, despite all the hardship and fear and conflict. This was living. This was life!

  With a sigh, Jack punched Teal'c on the shoulder. "Time to go.

  His friend gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, and together they headed toward the open gate. Crawford was huddled at the bottom of the steps, staring up at the puddle with dead eyes - a broken man. Jack wondered what tormented him more, the horror of the sheh fet, or the fact that Kinsey had abandoned him there? He had no sympathy for the man; if you get into bed with a snake, it's gonna bite you in the ass.